Strictly Business
by Original Max A
Summary: Maevelyn McNeil is the owner of a restaurant in debt. Stedman Enterprises is the new investor that could save her business. But when all of her negotiations are through the incredibly attractive CEO, how will she manage to keep things strictly business?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't usually do this, but what the hey. I don't own Sinbad or any of its characters. But this show been cancelled for a long time anyway.

BTW, this is totally AU, except for the personalities.

Maeve rushed to get to the orders to her tables as quickly and as efficiently as possible. With her apron on, t-shirt and thick red hair wrapped in a messy bun, no one would ever guess that she owned the place. Maevelyn McNeil, Maeve for short, was the owner of McNeil's, the nicest Irish Restaurant this side of Brooklyn. As happy as she and her family were with the restaurant, the fact was that at they were in serious debt. Her father saved and sacrificed to make his dream of reality. Not only did he want a restaurant, he wanted his children to be self-sufficient so that they wouldn't have to depend on others to make their deals nor their money for them. Unfortunately, her father had suddenly died, leaving funeral expenses and loans that needed to be paid off. The debt put McNeil's in serious danger of going under, but Maeve wasn't going to let that happen. To keep her father's dream a reality, Maeve did something that she hated to do, she asked for help. After much convincing by her brother, Dermott, Maeve was preparing to take on a new investor to keep the restaurant afloat.

Stedman Enterprises, Maeve's chosen investor, was supposed to come to McNeil's today to check the place out and make their finally decision on whether or not to go into business with her. Stedman Enterprises was a shipping company that made its money on importing and exporting goods as well as building and selling their planes and boats. With all of its success, the CEO of Stedman Enterprises had announced that it was time for them to give back to the community and the City of New York. No one knew what brought about this sudden action, but Maeve made sure that McNeil's would be their first stop and, if all went well, she might be able to get a deal with the food and beer that she had imported. Unfortunately, today, three of her wait staff took a day off. On top of being short staffed, the rest of the waiters and waitresses at McNeil were over worked due to a convention in town.

Maeve had to convince her brother, and her best friend, Bryn, to help pick up the slack. Although they both had said that they were happy to help, Maeve just didn't like asking. After place the person's order on the table, Maeve went to the next table where a new couple was seated by Andrea, the hostess. The man, dressed in a gray business suit, whispered in Andrea's ear and she suddenly widened her eyes in alarm and practically ran into the kitchen. As Maeve walked over to them, she wondered what had happened. If that man said anything wrong or raunchy to Andrea, Maeve would kick him out herself.

"Hi. My name is May," Maeve started, for she never used her full name when she was waitressing, "I'll be your server for this evening."

The man nodded while looking at his menu. The woman, in a dark blue business outfit and an obvious look of displeasure, finally looked at Maeve and placed a fake smile on her face.

"You do have apple martinis, don't you?" she asked condescendingly, flipping her dark hair in the process.

Maeve, with an equally fake smile, nodded, "Yes."

"Ok, I'll have that then," she replied, suddenly fascinated by her acrylic nails.

Maeve quickly wrote that down, "And you, sir?"

He turned and they locked eyes. Maeve saw his face for the first time and needed to remember how to breathe for a moment. The man had the looks that make a girl say, "Damn! I want that!" He was clean shaven, although he looked quite young, something about him told her, he was an old soul. His features were soft, yet refined. He seemed pleasant, but at the same time mischievous. With sea-blue eyes that make her wish she could drown in them, she wanted to hold his gaze for as long as possible. Apparently, they stared at each other too long for his female companion.

"Dearest, she asked you if you wanted anything," she stated, sounding slightly irritated.

"Yes, Rumina, I know," he replied.

"It's just that everything here looks so…" he turned to Maeve, "appetizing."

"Maybe you should stop gazing at the 'menu' and make a decision," Rumina pressed.

The man laughed Rumina's obvious annoyance off and still looked at Maeve.

"What would you recommend, May?" he asked with smile on his face.

Maeve stood back and studied him for a moment, "You look like a…Jack Daniels kinda guy."

"One of my favorites. You're good."

Maeve smiled, genuinely this time, "Thanks. Do you want that straight or on the rocks."

The man smirked, "Straight."

_Gotta love a man who can hold his liquor, _she thought as she wrote is order down.

"I'll put those in," she replied and left for the kitchen. Once inside she leaned on the wall and fanned herself. She didn't know how she was going concentrate for the rest of the night with that man looking at her like she was his next meal. Although Maeve hated having customers flirt with her, especially ones who seemed attached, she couldn't help, but be flattered by this man attention. She had no clue why, but she was beginning to feel like it was going to be a long night. Suddenly, Andrea came running to her.

"Maeve, good, I finally found you," she said in a rush.

Maeve looked at Andrea, concerned, "Are you okay, Andrea? What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, but they're here," Andrea replied.

"Who's here?"

"The representatives of Stedman Enterprises," she said in one breath.

Maeve stood shocked, "They're here! Already!"

Andrea just nodded quickly. Maeve had to quickly take action, the blue-eyed guy and his prissy companion, were just going to have to wait. She had business to take care of and chances were that she wouldn't have seen him beyond this night anyway. She ripped off the paper where took her orders and gave it to Andrea.

"Take this to Bryn. Tell her to take all of my tables and that the tips are hers. Got it?"

"Yeah," she said and left quickly.

Maeve raced upstairs, where her dark pants suit was waiting. She applied a little makeup and let her hair out, brushing it into a suitable hair style. Finally ready to come down in that fasted fifteen minutes of her life, Maeve found Andrea again and asked where the Stedman people were sitting. Maeve looked at where Andrea was pointing and nearly fainted. It was the same table that she had just waited on. She walked over in her uncomfortable business heels and prayed that they didn't recognize her. Unfortunately, when the man, who she now assumed was Mr. Stedman, looked up and smiled, she knew differently. When she reached table, Mr. Stedman was the first person to speak.

"Well this is a pleasant surprise. I thought you didn't like us, May, but I guess that isn't the case. I'm surprised at your new outfit, though," stated he.

Maeve took at deep breath, "Actually, Mr. Stedman, my name is Maevelyn McNeil. I'm the person you are meeting with tonight."

"The owner isn't here so he sends the hired help? Stedman, let's go. If Darius McNeil doesn't have time for us, then we don't have time for him," Rumina declared and grabbed her purse.

"I am the owner. My father, Darius McNeil, died a month in a half ago," Maeve affirmed in a controlled voice, trying to suppress her temper.

"Oh," Rumina replied.

"Please, have a seat," Stedman said, motioning to the seat across from him. As Maeve sat down, she again wondered how she was going to make it through the night. She thought she would have problems waiting on them, but now she had to look at this man in the eye for the entire night while convincing him that she wanted a business partnership and not a date. She also had to still deal with Rumina, who she instantly disliked. She closed her eyes and thought to herself for a moment, _I know this going to be a long night._ She opened her eyes, ready to do business and negotiate. Little did she know that this dinner would be the first of many conversions, arguments and discussions that she would have with Mr. Sean Stedman, better known in certain circles as Sinbad.


	2. Chapter 2

Acting like the debonair business man and playboy that he was reported to be; Stedman attempted to smooth over this meeting that had obviously gotten off on the wrong foot.

"Ms. McNeil, first thing I want to say is that I'm sorry for your loss. I know it must be difficult to carry on this business with your father's passing," he commented softly, looking at her directly in the eyes. Whatever flames that Rumina ignited seemed to instantly cool as he started to speak. Maeve felt calm and enough at ease to speak from her heart, completely forgetting that Rumina was there.

"Thank you. It is difficult, but I manage," she said honestly.

Stedman just nodded, "I understand… and I apologize for my colleague, but it's easy to understand Ms. Harold's mistake. Although you are now the owner, most things are still in his name, correct?"

Maeve closed her eyes for a second and nodded, "Yes."

In the beginning, it was hard to look at all the mail and bills and see her father's name on the top. She wanted to scream, "He's dead! Stop it!" Sometimes it felt as though they were mocking her. She had to do so much that she still hadn't found any real time to mourn. Suddenly Maeve felt a warmth on her hand. Stedman had placed his hand over hers. Her eyes went up his arm to his face where he was smiling encouragingly. He tapped her hand lightly.

"It's okay," he stated as if he really knew what she was going through. She smiled back warmly. Then suddenly, as if something had given him a jolt, he quickly moved his hand away.

"Also," he said suddenly, "I don't recall you identifying yourself as the owner in our correspondence."

"I didn't. People, sometimes, don't take it seriously when they know a woman is running things," Maeve replied and turned to Rumina, "Surely, you understand."

Rumina laughed lightly, "Actually, no. I've always been taken… the way I wanted to be taken."

Maeve gave Rumina a cold stare, but remained polite all the same, "Good for you."

Rumina's smile got even wider, "Isn't it, though."

Maeve stare got even colder as she seriously considered wiping that arrogant smile off of Rumina face with her fist. Unfortunately, Maeve knew the breaking someone's jaw wasn't the best to ask for money. Feeling the tension crackling in the air, Stedman changed the subject.

"Let's get down to business, shall we?" he suggested.

"Yes, I don't want waste anymore time," Rumina said, looking at Maeve expectantly.

Maeve, controlling herself from saying something back to Rumina, opened the manila folder with McNeil's portfolio in it. The first thing she pulled out was the financial statement.

"As you can see," she started, "McNeil's has had steady financial growth in the past four years."

"We have also expanded in both size and menu offerings," she stated placing a former picture of McNeil's in front of Stedman and a former menu in front of Rumina. Rumina looked at the menu and the financial statement curiously.

"If you have experienced all of this growth, why are _you_ waiting tables? Did you forget to hire employees?"

"Ms. Harold, I am an entrepreneur. To keep my business running I have to know and be willing to do anything and everything. I've been the cook, the bartender, the janitor and, yes, on some days, the waitress, to keep things running smoothly. You can't run a restaurant and not get your hands dirty," Maeve replied.

"Then why do you need us? Surely you can pull yourself out of whatever rut you're in if you're so…" Rumina arched an eyebrow to Maeve, "successful."

Maeve took a deep breath, "With my father's death, there have been a few unexpected surprises. But besides that, I also have plans to expand McNeil's so that we can hold events that can support the community such as block parties and fundraisers for public schools and local organizations."

"Trying to save the world one keg at time," Rumina suggested.

Maeve pressed her lips together, "Something like that."

She turned back to Stedman and handed him a streamlined copy of her proposal.

"Here is the short version of the proposal I submitted to your company," she stated.

Stedman nodded, "Yes. I looked it over. It's a good plan."

"Thank you," Maeve smiled.

"But," he started, "I have a few concerns that I would like to bring up."

Maeve's eyes dropped with concern.

"And they are?" she pressed, started to think they wouldn't accept the deal. She looked over at Rumina, who seemed anything, but surprised. In fact, she looked like she was enjoying it. Stedman looked back at Rumina for a moment. He took in her expression and returned to Maeve. He felt bad for Maeve because although his concerns were genuine, he didn't want to give Rumina more ammunition to harass her. Stedman faced Maeve again and smiled.

"We'll discuss those at a later point. For right now, Ms. McNeil, consider you with a new investor," he said. He stood up and extended his hand over the table, but Maeve didn't take it. Instead, she nearly leapt over the table to give him a big, bone-crushing hug that reminded him of his big brother, Dorian, who had a tendency to forget that people needed to breathe. Rumina's jaw hit the floor with surprise at Maeve's sudden show of affection.

"STEDMAN!" she implored.

Rumina's voice brought Maeve back to the present. She couldn't believe what she had just done. Not only was she touching, embracing one of the influential men in New York, she was doing it in the middle of her restaurant. She tried to pull back, hoping that she could repair whatever damage she had done and keep him as an investor, but she noticed something strange. His hands were on her back. She looked up and saw that he was looking down at her. She smiled nervously.

"Sorry," she breathed.

"No need," he confirmed and eased his hands away from her. He gestured to her seat and she sat down, shifting in her seat for a minute. When Stedman returned to his seat, Maeve laughed nervously.

"Thank you again," she replied finally.

Rumina spoke up, tried of being ignored. She turned to Stedman and placed her hand on his shoulder as if she were about to whisper something in his ear. Any woman could tell what Rumina's actions were really about: possession. Apparently, she saw Stedman as her property and was staking her claim in front of Maeve's eyes.

"Stedman, since you have reservations about going into business with this restaurant, I recommend we invest in them on a temporary or probationary basis. We can take to many risks with our money, you know," she remarked.

"Actually," Stedman stated and moved Rumina's hand from him, "It's _my_ money and _I_ like a little risk."

Maeve laughed under her breath at this. Unfortunately her laugh was not unnoticed and Stedman turned to her.

"But, Ms. Harold's suggestion is a valid one. I think it would be best for the investment to temporary until we can refine your contract."

"Ok, how do we take of this?" she questioned.

"I'll have someone call you to arrange a second meeting. In the meantime," he said and wrote a check for $2,000, "Here's something to hold you over. I know you'll put it to good use."

Maeve's eyes lit up as she saw the check and accepted it gracefully, "Thank you."

She put her hand out for a shake and Stedman took it.

"It's been a pleasure doing business with you," he stated smiling.

"Aye," Maeve replied, unconscious of the fact that an Irish accent was coming through. Maeve shook her head, "I mean, yes, I agree."

Stedman dropped his hand to his side and spoke.

"Someone will call you tomorrow," he mentioned and started to move out of the booth with Rumina trailing behind, "I look forward to meeting with you again, Ms. McNeil. Good night."

"Good night, Mr. Stedman," Maeve replied as he walked past her. He turned back around for a minute.

"Ms. McNeil?"

"Umm?"

"Please call me Sean," he said with a wink and left. After he was out of sight, Maeve plopped into the seat and wondered what hell she had gotten herself into.


	3. Chapter 3

The next day, Maeve was going over McNeil's invoices when the phone rang.

"Hello, McNeil's," Maeve answered automatically.

"Hi, may I speak to Ms. McNeil please?" a male voice asked.

Maeve cradled the phone closer to her ear with her shoulder and made some adjustments to the invoices.

"This is she, who is speaking?"

"One dinner last night and you already forget my name, I didn't think I was that forgettable," the other voice replied jokingly.

"Oh!" Maeve exclaimed, dropping her pen and papers. She ignored the displaced items and put the phone in her hand, focusing all of her attention on the conversation.

"Mr. Stedman, I'm so sorry. I didn't recognize your voice," she said in a rush.

Stedman chuckled lightly, "It's alright. After all, we only met last night."

Maeve smiled, "Right. By the way, why are you calling?"

"Didn't I say someone would a call you tomorrow?" Stedman responded as if it was obvious.

"Yes, but I didn't think it would be you."

"Who did you think would call?" he questioned.

Maeve considered that for a moment, "Well, a secretary, an associate or…"

_That bitch, Ms. Harold, _she thought.

"…someone else," she finished, "I mean, you always make personal business calls?"

"Not always, but I wanted to personally apologize for my colleagues behavior last night."

Maeve was taken back by this. Although she did want to hit Ms. Harold last night, she hardly expected an apology.

"It's ok. Thank you," replied Maeve.

"So," she said trying to change the subject, "When did you want to arrange the next meeting."

"How about lunch?" he asked.

"That's fine. When?"

"Today, if possible," he replied.

Maeve looked at her which showed that it was 9:30 am. It would be rough, but she thought she could take care of her business and make it to his office in time.

"Ok, that's doable. What time?"

"1:45."

Maeve nodded her head as if Stedman was right in the room, "That's fine and we're meeting at your office?"

"Right. I'll see you then, Mae…" he started call her by her first name, but then he caught himself, trying to make sure that she wouldn't get offended.

"Can I still call you Maeve?" he asked.

Maeve smiled at this, "Of course, Sean."

"You remembered," Sean smiled on the other end of the phone.

"Yeah. I'll see you this afternoon."

"See you then, Maeve" he said and hung up.

Maeve hung up the phone and stared at the scattered papers and pens that were on the floor. They were now the least of her problems, but she cleaned it up all the while thinking about what the afternoon would bring.

Maeve arrived at Stedman Enterprises at 1:30pm. She was dress a little more comfortably than she was last night. Her heels were not nearly as high. She wore a navy blue blouse with a long black suit pants. Maeve told the receptionist about her appointment and she was directed upstairs to the fifth floor. When she arrived, she was instructed to sit in the lobby for a while because Mr. Stedman was in another meeting.

"Firouz, I don't care how you make it work, just that you do," said a big man who just entered the room from the elevator. He was followed by a man of average height with curly hair who was talking excitedly with his hands.

"I will. I just wanted to make sure you understand…"

The big man turned around, "Firouz, when was the last time I didn't trust your judgment."

Firouz smiled, "Well, never."

"And when have you ever misused the money that we have given you for your projects?"

"Not once."

The big man his hand on Firouz's shoulder, "Then don't worry, my friend. Stedman and I trust you with this as well. You just keep on doing your work. We'll worry about the cost, you worry about getting done."

Firouz nodded, "Ok, Dorian."

"Good. Now get to work," he replied good naturedly.

Firouz put his hand up in mock salute, "Aye-aye."

The men shared a good laugh and Maeve couldn't help, but join in. They both noticed and turned to her. Maeve quickly became quiet and was suddenly fascinated with the carpet.

"Hello," Firouz said to her, "Are you waiting for something?"

"Hi," she said looking up, "Actually I have a meeting with Mr. Stedman today."

Firouz looked at Dorian questioningly for a moment. Dorian just shrugged his shoulders.

"Sean Stedman," she said quickly.

"Oh, ok, lass. Well he's in a meeting right now, but you are welcome to stay in my office until he comes out. I'm his brother, Dorian," he mentioned and held out his hand to shake.

"Thank you," she replied as she shook his hand.

"My name is Frank," the curly-haired man stated, "and what your name, my dear?"

"Maevelyn McNeil, but I thought your name was Firouz?" she asked.

Frank laughed at this, "No. It's just a… childhood nickname. Dorian, or should I say Doubar, here is the only one who still uses it."

Maeve nodded, "Well it's nice to meet you."

"Likewise. Well as you heard, I've got to get back to work," he said and began to leave.

"Goodbye, Firouz, I mean Frank…I mean, what should I call you anyway?" Maeve asked.

He shook his head, "Whichever."

"Firouz, then. Somehow it suits you better."

Firouz moved his head to acknowledge Dorian, "He says the same thing."

He laughed and left to continue what he was doing.

"Looks like it's just you and me, lass," Dorian said once Firouz left the area.

"Come on," He said offering his hand, "I'll take you to my office."

Maeve took it and walked down the hallway to his office. Dorian's office was friendly and inviting, filled with pictures of family, friends, souvenirs from places he had visited.

"Sorry for it being so cluttered," Dorian commented as soon they entered.

"Don't worry about it," Maeve soothed in admiration, "It makes it look homey."

She picked up a picture of Dorian with a woman and two little girls.

"This is your family?" she asked.

Dorian broke into a huge smile and nodded.

"That's my wife, Adriana and our daughter Rachel and Michelle," he replied with obvious pride. He walked over to Maeve at looked at the picture more closely.

"They take after their mother, but they have my stubbornness," he continued.

Maeve laughed softly, "You don't strike me as the type to be stubborn."

"Ahh, but you haven't seen me fight with my brother," he commented and gently took the picture and put it back on his desk. Then Maeve saw another picture that caught her eyes. Dorian had placed it in a small corner, hardly noticeable unless you knew were to look or, as in Maeve's case, your eyes just happened to wonder over there. She walked to the picture and examined it. There were three little boys, all about the same age, in a cardboard ship on the lawn. The ship had the name "Nomad" proudly written in black permanent marker. One little boy was the head of the ship, looking very proud and seeing something distant, but tangible on the horizon. The second boy was in the middle of the ship with his finger out, looking the sky questioningly. The last boy, who was bigger than the first two, looked like he was holding a tiller made out of cardboard and sticks. He kept his eyes on the other two, while holding the tiller tightly. He looked almost like he was actually steering the ship while trying to keep an eye on the other two.

"Who are these boys?" she asked after taking a minute to observe the picture.

Dorian took a deep breath and waited a minute before answering, "You know, no one has ever noticed that picture. Sean doesn't even know it's here. That's Doubar, Firouz and Sinbad on their very first voyage."

"Huh? I know Doubar is you, and who Firouz is. Who's Sinbad?"

"Take a closer look," he replied.

Maeve did as he said and suddenly her eyes bulged, "Sean!"

Dorian nodded.

"Yeah. Before he was Sean or Stedman, he was Sinbad," Dorian replied wistfully.

"You know when we were young, he wouldn't even reply to the name Sean. He was Sinbad, Master of the Seven Seas, day and night. He had the biggest imagination and everyone else was just trying to keep up with him," he said in remembrance.

Maeve put the picture back.

"What happened?"

Dorian closed his eyes and shook his head, "Life."

"What do you mean?" she asked. Dorian opened his mouth, but Maeve didn't get the answer because that's when Sean walked through the door.

"Hey. What are you doing Dorian, holding her hostage?"

Dorian chuckled lightly, "No, little brother, she's all yours."

"Hey!" Maeve chimed in, "Don't talk about me like I'm not here. I am not a possession to be passed around."

Dorian could have sworn he saw Sean shrink two inches.

"I didn't mean anything by that, Maeve."

Maeve smiled, "I know. I was just joking. Let's go, shall we?"

Sean nodded and opened the door wider for Maeve to pass through, "We shall. Ladies first."

"Thank you," she replied and then turned to Dorian, "Thank you for being such good company…Doubar."

Dorian smiled at her last word as she left the office. Sean looked from her to his brother questioningly before following her out. After left, Dorian let himself have big hearty laugh, he could tell that his brother was in for his biggest adventure yet. He got up and looked at the picture of the little boys and their ship the 'Nomad'. He paid close attention to the intrepid boy at the front, looking at horizon, seeing what only he could see and searching for what only he could know. But seeing the interaction between his brother and the beautiful, strong young woman who was in his office, Dorian had an idea of what or rather who he was looking for all of these years.

"Little brother," he said the picture, "I think you found who been searching for."


	4. Chapter 4

At a little French café about 4 blocks from the office building, Maeve and Stedman conducted their meeting. Although, if someone passed by, they would hardly think they were doing anything more than enjoying each other's company, which they were… a little too much.

"So there I am, trying to convince this girl that I'm the captain, when suddenly the real captain of the ship shows up. She runs towards him and he starts speaking to her in Italian. Turned out, not only was the captain her uncle, she didn't even speak English," Stedman concluded, laughing at his former exploits. Maeve was in stitches with the second story of Stedman's formative years.

"I was pretty much talking to myself for the twenty minutes."

"I'm sorry," Maeve said between fits of laughter.

"About what?"

"That it didn't work out for you. If it's any consolation, that girl does not know what she missed."

Stedman lounged in his chair and smiled at Maeve, "What do you mean by that?"

Maeve playfully rolled her eyes, "You know exactly what I mean."

"No," Stedman shook his head, "You're going to have to elaborate."

"Then I guess I'm gonna leave you mystified."

"That happened the day the met you," he replied sincerely.

Maeve cocked her head to the side, "Now what do you mean by that?"

Stedman smiled in that sly way of his, "Wouldn't you like know."

Maeve smirked at him. They had been playing verbal volleyball ever since they had gotten there. If either one was asked, they wouldn't be able to tell you would was winning, they were having too much fun playing the game.

"Well, we are not here to talk about how I mystify you, are we?"

Stedman scooted closer to the table, "No, we're not. I wanted to talk to you about the imports you requested."

Maeve's eyebrows moved closer together.

"What about them?"

"The specific brands of beer are too expensive for the prices that you are selling for."

"If I buy them at the price that you offer, why is that a concern?"

Stedman took a breath, "Now that my company supports your business, your profit reflects on us. We don't want be known for supporting failing businesses."

"Failing businesses! McNeil's is doing everything, but failing!"

"Maeve, please calm down," Stedman requested.

Maeve looked at him dangerously, "I am calm. You just told me that I'm not managing my restaurant well. The restaurant that my father left to me. Trust me, I am calm."

"Well," Stedman started, knowing he was treading on dangerous ground, "You did come to us for help."

Maeve's hand clenched into a fist and she breathed. She forced a fake smile, "Are telling me that was a mistake?"

"No, Maeve, this is just something that we need to clear up."

"Clear up! What is there to clear up! If you don't want to support my business or the way I run it, you don't have to," she declared.

"You're right, I don't!" Stedman affirmed back at her. Maeve huffed out a short breath, certain that she blew whatever chances she had to continue this business relationship.

"But I want to," Stedman replied after a few short breaths, "This is a silly argument."

"No, it's not. McNeil's is a Brooklyn institution. I have customers who have been coming there for twenty years; people who've known me since I was an infant. To change things would not only be a slap in their face, but also in my father's," she explained.

"Maeve, you're making too much of this," he replied trying to calm her.

"You don't understand. First the prices, then the décor, my staff, these small changes as you see them add up. If we change too much, it won't be McNeil's anymore," she stated passionately.

"So what do you suggest because this is a problem."

Maeve thought for a moment.

"How about I lower the quantity? The demand for those brands aren't that high anyway. I buy less and keep my prices the same," she replied.

"That goes completely against…" Stedman started. Maeve put her hands over his.

"Let me do it my way, first, okay. If it doesn't work out, I'll change, but give me a chance," she said sweetly. Stedman was shocked by her quick change in demeanor. She was as fierce as a dragon one minute and sweet as a dove the next. _Women_, he thought. The more he looked at her, the more he knew that he was going to agree to her proposal. He couldn't help it.

"Okay," he conceded, "But only for a month. Then we'll see what the numbers are from there."

Maeve nodded, "Thank you."

"I'll have the refined contract made at my office. You can sign it there," he stated.

Maeve smiled, "Excellent."

Stedman smiled back at her, satisfied that this was going to be a good relationship… _business relationship_, he reminded himself. He took a longer look at the beauty before him. There was something about her that he liked. From the richest in her voice to the stride in her step, everything about her was just full of life and energy. The love that she had for her family was strong and touched him deeply. She was just…genuine, which was something he definitely didn't get with Rumina or any of the other women who were constantly around him. Watching her look at her menu again, an idea came to him.

"Maeve, why don't we celebrate?" he suggested.

"Excuse me?" she questioned

"With McNeil's joining the Stedman Enterprises family, I think we should celebrate this occasion."

Maeve smiled at him politely, with doubt in her eyes, "Sean, that's nice, but I don't think that's such a good idea."

"Why?"

"Well, I assume by celebrate you mean an extremely formal dinner party of some sort and I… well, I just don't feel comfortable in those settings. They make me feel like the prize pig at a county fair."

"You're from Brooklyn, what do you know about county fairs?" he joked.

Maeve rolled her eyes, "I read in Charlotte's Web. Anyway, it's just not my kind of place. I don't think me and my associates would fit in."

"For your information, I was not thinking of a dinner party. Besides, I think you and I are both a little too young to celebrate that way all of the time," he replied.

Maeve leaned in, "So what did you have in mind."

"A party, in your honor, at Reggie's," he stated.

Maeve squinted her eyes in confusion, "You're going to have to clarify. The only Reggie's I know is a club in downtown Manhattan."

Stedman smiled, "Good, then you know where it is than."

Maeve sat back in surprise, "Of course. Everyone does. I just, umm, didn't think you would be into that."

"Why?"

"I can't quite picture Ms. Harold there," she tried to reply tactfully.

"She doesn't follow me everywhere, Maeve," he commented.

Maeve took a sip of her water, _Good to know_, she thought.

"So do you want to go?" Stedman asked.

Maeve tilted her head to him, "Aye. Sound like fun."

"Good," he said, lifting his hand for the check.

"We'll go back to my office, you can sign the papers and I'll see you at Reggie's at, let's say 9?" he continued.

Maeve nodded, "Sounds like a plan. Can I bring my associates?"

"It's your party, Maeve. Bring whomever you want."

The waitress came to their table with the check in hand. Maeve watched as Stedman signed the receipt for his credit card. She didn't really know what she liked about him, but it had been there from the beginning. Although she warned herself not to go there, she couldn't help it. The more she was around him, the more she liked him. It was a chain reaction. This was going to be an interesting night. Although she was happy to have the business taken care of, the thing she found herself most excited about was seeing the man in front of her out of his clothes…_work clothes_, she corrected in her head. _And in a pair of jeans. _


	5. Chapter 5

A Note from the author: What can I say. It's been a long time since I've written. I graduated college and am taking the summer off. It's going to take me a minute to get back into the fan fiction groove, but I've come to better appreciate what this expression of fandom does for me as a writer and as a person. I love it all and I hope you all enjoy my stories. I will be picking up and completing a lot of old stories and started new ones. Enjoy. 

"I wonder if we're going to be on the V.I.P. list?" Byrn asked as Dermott pulled up to the curb.

"We better be," Dermott replied as he moved the joystick into park. Maeve gave him a side glance. Dermott shrugged.

"Being related to you has to have some perks," he said and smiled.

Maeve let out a groan and looked over at the entrance of Reggie's. The music pulsed from the club and the colorful, dancing lights could be seen from the windows. All she could think about was that Sean Stedman was in there somewhere waiting for her. Not that he would notice her when she walked in, but the fact that he expected her there made such a difference. She had been to Reggie's before. It was a trendy place known for its exotic atmosphere and pulsing rhythms.

Unlike other clubs, the music at Reggie's wasn't dictated by the most recent top 40 list. Only the sexiest, most powerful, get-up-on-your-feet-and-dance music was played there. While the selective music choices were one of the things that Maeve loved about the club, she also knew that it could get her in a lot of trouble. Just the thought of dancing the sexiest music in the world while the most beautiful blue eyes she had ever seen stared at her from across the room was exciting… and dangerous. Yeah, she was in trouble.

The club had three floors. The first floor, called the Savannah, played mostly hip-hop and reggae. The second floor was The Island that played Latin music. And the third floor, which was the most elusive, was called the Jungle, known for its international beats and discreet hideaways.

The trio entered Reggie's with the rhythm flowing over them. They stared at the dancers, grinding, spinning, popping and locking. Maeve smiled and looked at her brother and Bryn. They were in awe. Maeve saw a large circle of people in the right corner of the club, clapping and cheering. She hooked her arm with her brother's. He looked at her.

"Come on," Maeve said and pulled them into the crowd.

"That's it! That's it! Woah!" a girl cheered into the circle.

Maeve, Dermott and Bryn squeezed their way into the circle. A strong, dark-skin man in a red baseball cap was in the middle of the circle, spinning on his head. He spun faster and then spun down on to his back, slowing down and posed. The crowd cheered as he leaped up, kicking his feet out like martial artist. Maeve smiled.

"Reggie!" she shouted.

Reggie turned and smiled when he saw the fiery redhead.

"Hey!" Reggie called back, walking over to her and accepting people's hi-fives and fist pounds along the way. When he got to Maeve, he gave her a big hug.

"Good to see you," she said.

Reggie let her go, "You too."

"Still dancing, I see."

Reggie shrugged, "Gotta show these kids who runs the place, you know."

Maeve nods, "I know. You're doing well for yourself."

"You too. Wait, aren't you supposed to be upstairs with Steadman?"

Dermott stepped forward, "That's where he is?"

Reggie looked at Dermott up and down questioningly, "Naaawww."

Reggie turned to Maeve, "No way that's D-Manic?"

Maeve laughed. Dermott put his head down.

"What?' Bryn asked.

Maeve put her hand up, "Sorry, sorry. Sorry I didn't introduce them earlier."

Maeve gestured to Bryn, "Reggie, this is Bryn. And yeah, that's D-Manic."

Bryn looked up at Dermott, "D-Manic?"

Dermott shook his head, "Don't ask."

"Let's just say that by the time you came around, Dermott had chilled out a lot," Maeve said and then snickered, "And given up on his dreams of a rap career."

"Maaeevvve." Dermott said, embarrassed.

Bryn laughed and looked at Dermott, "Wow!"

Dermott shook his head, "Please, don't!"

Bryn put her hands up and said, "I'm not saying anything."

Maeve turned to Reggie, "Lead the way."

Suddenly a hand clasped Maeve's. She looked up and saw Steadman dazzling eyes staring into her own. Steadman smiled.

"How about _I_ take you to the Jungle?" He said with tone that promised oh-so-much more.

Maeve was taken back and stared back. _I was right,_ she thought as she looked at Steadman up and down, taking in his fashionable button-down and jeans, _he does look good in a pair of jeans._

Steadman gestured to the stairs, "Come on, you're missing your own party."

Maeve followed Steadman upstairs with Dermott and Bryn in tow. Somewhere, in the back of her mind, she realized that it didn't feel like the first time she had been led by this man into an adventure and somehow she didn't think it would be the last.

When they reached the top of the stairs, Steadman led them to a hidden booth in the corner. Frank was sitting there, talking excitedly with the woman sitting next to him.

"You see, when I proposed improvements to the new propulsion system, it was focused on—"

"Frank!" Sean interrupted. Frank looked up.

"Fun now. Work later," Sean stated in no uncertain terms, still holding Maeve's hand.

The woman looked at Sean, "I'm enjoying myself. It's rare that you met someone this brilliant and personable."

Frank blushed, "Um, forgive me, my dear. Sean, this is Adriana. Adriana, Sean."

Adriana stood up, her dark hair sweeping around her shoulders, and put her hand out to Sean. Sean shook it and smiled.

"I stand corrected. Carry on."

She nodded and then noticed Maeve.

"And this must be the guest of honor."

Maeve smiled, "That's one way of putting it. I'm Maeve. This is Dermott and Bryn."

They waved. Adriana nodded, "Do you want to see with us?"

Dermott started to resisted, but Adriana insisted. Dermott and Bryn sat down in the red plush couches that formed the booth. Maeve began to sit, but Sean held her hand tighter. She looked at him.

"Let's dance," he said softly. Looking into his eyes, almost hypnotized, she nodded and went to the dance floor. Sean's hand went around her waist and she looked him in the eyes as the pulsing drums vibrated through the floor, the air and into the bodies. Yeah, she was in trouble.


End file.
